


Isn't it Lovely

by preciousmetals



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude is scheming as per always, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Hilda/Marianne are slipped in here too, I'm Bad At Tagging, Maybe smut later as a treat, Mentioned Sothis (Fire Emblem), Multi, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciousmetals/pseuds/preciousmetals
Summary: (On hold for a second but I WILL come back to it, I promise) Claude’s eyes softened for the first time in years. Hilda could have sworn that his facial expression had been melded into stone—his brows stayed perpetually pulled down into a furrow, eyes cold. He had been quiet for a long time, quizzically glancing between Hilda and Marianne, who had just returned from Garreg Mach. When he finally spoke, Hilda heard hesitation. “Where is she?” He asked flatly, gripping the table so hard he thought he may break it. All these years. He knew it.“I think you know where she is,” Hilda replied softly, perching on the end of his desk, glancing at her nails which had gotten dirt under them. Claude hadn't let his guard down like this in a long, long time.This is a take on Claude's point of view of the Golden Deer Route!! I'm thinking it'll follow that general route, but with added pieces peppered in here and there. Or everywhere. We're starting with the lead up to the very first time he met Byleth. Claude/F!Byleth. Buckle up and get ready for some Slowburn Action, everyone.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 68





	1. You Are A Memory

Claude’s eyes softened for the first time in years. Hilda could have sworn that his facial expression had been melded into stone—his brows stayed perpetually pulled down into a furrow, eyes cold. He had been quiet for a long time, quizzically glancing between Hilda and Marianne, who had just returned from Garreg Mach. When he finally spoke, Hilda heard hesitation. “Where is she?” He asked flatly, gripping the table so hard he thought he may break it. All these years. He knew it.

  
“I think you know where she is,” Hilda replied softly, perching on the end of his desk, glancing at her nails which had gotten dirt under them. Claude hadn't let his guard down like this in a long, long time. For the first time in a long time, she could see something in his eyes which she had sworn were gone for good: hope. She smiled to herself. Now was the time for tides to turn.

* * *

_ ***  _

_ Five years ago _

Claude didn’t have the best start to his day, that’s for sure. He awoke around the fifth bell, much too early for anyone’s liking. He was an infamously light sleeper, awaking to the sound of the slightest shuffling outside. It was better this way, he told himself. Better to be a light sleeper than sleep through something pinnacle. He rolled over onto his back, feeling knots in his muscles that had formed from sleeping in the wrong position loosening themselves. He groaned and stretched, letting his arms fall to his sides. Maybe he could go back to sleep for a little while, after all. He still felt fatigued and heavy. It didn’t seem like there was any immediate danger—there never was at the monastery. His eyes slid shut. He didn't sleep, but rather tried to commit his dream from the night before to his longterm memory.

_ He had dreams of the ocean last night. Again. He had been sitting on the sand, sweat beaded on his forehead and chest. He felt a bit of sweat slide down his back. It was uncomfortably warm in this dream, but he couldn't find the strength to stand and walk to the water to cool off. He stared at the colors of the water. It was sea-green with the seaweed that pooled toward the shore. The most beautiful color he could imagine.  _

_ His dream-self closed his eyes, opening them to find it was almost nighttime. He could tell that within a few minutes, the sun would be completely gone. The sun didn't bother him anymore, in fact, he felt a bit chilly. The water was now dark blue with the absence of the sun. He finally stood and swore he could feel cool the sand between his toes. He wandered to the shore, where the water washed up and pooled around his ankles. He sighed with contentment. The water felt like heaven. He lifted his head to the sky, noticing the stars which seemed to be hurdling toward him. He glanced behind himself, finding blackness. He turned once more, facing the direction of the water. The words came like instinct.  _ No going back. _He stepped further into the water as it pulled him in as though it had arms to envelope him in. He looked up once more, now aware of the stars which were actually freefalling toward him. A star crashed into the water, dissolving the dream a bit, making a booming sound that should've deafened him. He should've felt scared. He should've screamed. He couldn't focus on anything but how alluring the coolness of the water felt. Another star. Then another. Violently crashing into the water, forcing his head under the water. Once more, a star crashed. The edges of the dream dissolved completely._

That's when his eyes had snapped open. He swore he could still feel the dark blueness of the water welcoming him in, each and every time he awoke from this dream. Each time he was sucked under the surface, it felt incredibly wrong that he could _finally_ breathe.

He let his eyes slide shut once more and reveled in the feeling of sleep overcoming him once again. He had a couple hours until the breakfast line even opened. He could catch a few more Z's.

Wait, what? Is that what his life has become? He snapped his eyes open again. Worrying about beating Raphael to the breakfast line? He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, fighting the swimming in his head from only being half-awake. He was here for more than the good food, no matter how good the food actually was. He wasn’t here to make friends or to seek the companionship of his fellow Golden Deer, even if he couldn't help but feel pride when he thought about each and every one of them. People like him didn’t benefit from making true friends. 

He frowned. Hilda might’ve been the only one to ever see through his bullshit. “Don’t worry, you’re not good-looking so you’re safe from my pining,” She assured him with a smile when they met. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re so angry?” She asked without missing a beat. Even with his flirtatious smile, his laid back attitude. She saw through it. 

_Stop it,_ he told himself. Instead, he pictured the Sword of the Creator. He pictured a united nation. That’s what’s important. He absently slipped his fingers under his pillow to ensure that his dagger was still there. They curled around the sheath, then he released it, leaving it in its spot.

He stood, thinking of Almyra. His mother’s eyes. The hatred he faced as a child. No one should ever have to go through that. He was going to do something about it. If he could just focus. 

He could hear Dimitri’s light footsteps coming down the hall before he could even knock. Claude sighed, pulling an undershirt over his head. What could the guy need this early in the morning? 

He opened the door and stepped out before Dimitri reached the room. “What do you want?” He asked, feigning a yawn, taking note of the fact that Dimitri was already dressed. “It’s too early for shenanigans. I’m not properly dressed.” 

Dimitri nodded solemnly, crossing his arms. “I noticed that. Dress yourself, the House Leaders have been summoned to Knights Hall. Surely it’s important at this hour.” Dimitri turned on his heel and made his way back down the hallway which he came. So Dimitri was worried about it, was he? Claude glanced out the window in the hall, appreciative of daybreak. The sun was just rising and with it, came the yellowish orange splotches of color spilling into the still-dark sky. As a child, he was most comforted at daybreak, delighted that he could let his guard down the tiniest bit. 

Claude looked down at himself; he was sort of a mess. He wore a black undershirt which was reserved for times like this. He slipped back into his room, pulling his uniform from the inside of his wardrobe. His hair was a disaster. He had fallen asleep with it wet, which made his waves into a mess.He dressed and pulled on his boots, not quite shaking the feeling that something was off. 

He was the last one to arrive to Knights Hall. Edelgard turned, narrowing her eyes. “Well, it took you long enough,” she said. “We’ve all been waiting here for some time now.” 

“The party wasn’t going to start without me,” Claude replied as he shrugged. “Which reminds me, why exactly are we partying so early?” Edelgard turned back to the table, where she was looking over a map. Dimitri was standing behind her, arms crossed again. 

“Actually, we need your help,” Hanneman was the one to reply. “There are reports of a bandit group clogging up the merchant routes. From what we can tell, it’s only three or four people causing trouble. We thought this was an excellent chance to build some relations between the house leaders.” 

Excellent. Yes, this _was_ a great opportunity. “Well, I’m always good for some bandit pummeling,” Claude said, pumping his fist. “I dunno about these lazy bums…” 

“Nice try,” Edelgard interjected. “We’re not so fast to back down, Claude.” 

Claude winked, taking Dimitri’s silence as agreement. “So when are we outta here?” 

“Now,” Dimitri replied, leaning against the table. “It’s a bit of a haul to get to our destination. About a days’ worth of travel.” 

Even more excellent. 

“We’ll have a few units accompanying you, of course,” Hanneman added. “We wouldn’t send you alone. However, you won’t be able to fly because of that.” 

Claude smiled at Edelgard and Dimitri. “More time for interhouse bonding, am I right?” 

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “Of course. Just try to keep your mind on the mission.” 

Claude departed from this meeting feeling as though maybe for once, his gut feeling that something was off was wrong. That was a strange fluke that bothered him the least bit. He wasn’t aware of this at the time, but change was rapidly approaching at a rate that would be hard for him to swallow. 

As they began their trip, Claude thought about Almyra. His mother’s eyes. Edelgard’s words. _Keep your mind on the mission._


	2. Soldier, Poet, King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! Thank you so much for the response here!! I'm so excited about getting back into writing and it makes me so happy to be able to create something again. My Fire Emblem phase hit me like a ton of bricks again and I'm glad to have such a great community of people around!!

Claude stood at the top of the goddess tower—the same place that he stood five years ago. With her. Teach. _His teach._ He stood anxiously, wondering if it was true. Was Marianne sure that it was Teach that she spotted near town?

He sighed and walked to the window, the sound of his boots on the stone floor echoed. He could see fairly far from here. The monastery was in ruins. Why would someone brave restoring it? He hadn’t been back here in five years. He couldn’t come back after the terrible realization that Teach hadn’t made it back after the battle. That’s when things took a turn for the worst. Today was the coolest day he'd experienced in almost a year. The breeze that was flowing into the tower was incredibly chilly; unseasonably so for a late spring day. 

The Alliance was shredded, the Kingdom was divided. The Empire was advancing. If there was ever a time for Teach to come back, now was the time. Hell, he’d even pray to the phony goddess at this point if he could just know she was safe. 

_But are you just being selfish?_ He thought of the night that they realized she was missing. It was the night that came after the battle, and he had been doing his regular internal head count of his Golden Deer. When he only counted seven, he immediately figured that she was discussing matters with Seteth, but when he spotted Seteth sitting with a sleeping Flayn, he panicked for the first time since he was a child. He felt dizzy, but kept his face as solemn as possible when he asked Seteth about her.

“I haven’t seen her recently, now that you’ve brought it up,” Seteth stroked his facial hair, Claude figured he was thinking about where he saw Teach last. Claude’s knees felt weak. He wanted to puke when his mind roamed to the possibility that she was injured, alone, scared. Dead. _No, no, we’re not thinking about that_ , he told himself. _She’s alive, she’s fine._

She’s alive, she’s fine. She has to be.

He was pulled out of his memories when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He froze and didn’t dare turn to the doorway, focusing on the ruins of the monastery.

He knew it. 

* * *

_ Five years ago _

So, maybe they hadn’t planned this out in the most constructed manner. As they passed the outskirts of yet another village, Edelgard turned to face Claude and Dimitri. She’d kept the demeanor up that she was slightly provoked. Maybe that’s just who she was, but Claude wondered if it were something deeper than that. “We’re stopping here. The unit is exhausted, and I think we’re capable of handling this alone.” There was no falter in her voice; she was completely confident of the words she was saying.

“Yeah, alright, but what if we’re not capable of handling it?” Claude asked, thinking about how exhausted he was, too. He didn’t get much sleep the night before, but they’d also been walking virtually all day with exceptions of the breaks they took to let the horses drink water and eat. His own stomach rumbled loudly at the thought of some grub. “Maybe we should pick this up in the morning.” 

Edelgard shook her head. “No time for that. I bet that’s what they’re expecting us to do; fall asleep, exhausted from a long day. They’ll ambush us at our weakest. Let’s go.” 

Claude shot a glance toward Dimitri, who looked deep in thought. “She is right that our unit is exhausted. Perhaps it is best to end this mission here so we can rest easy tonight.” _I find it hard to believe that royals can ever rest easy,_ Claude thought to himself. He didn’t argue further with Edelgard; he had been outvoted. This felt more like a trap than a kindness toward their unit. Who in their right brain decided this was a great plan? 

As they walked, Claude listened to Edelgard’s footsteps. They were surprisingly heavy for the small frame she was supporting. Dimitri’s were lighter than her’s. She walked as though she were the tallest person alive. In another life, Claude might have thought she was the definition of beauty. She was incredibly strong, seemed to think multiple steps ahead of her enemies, and she was the most outwardly confident person he’d met at the Academy so far. She didn’t need to walk quietly; she wanted to be heard. He couldn’t blame her for that.

Dimitri was a little harder to decipher. Claude noticed how carefully he chose his words. How gently he spoke. He was plenty sure of himself, such as with Edelgard. What was he hiding? He shook the feeling of being concerned for them, and instead tried to convince himself to be concerned about their intentions. 

They hadn’t been walking long until they entered a clearing. They’d been walking Northeast toward the outskirts of the town. Edelgard gasped, stopping in her tracks and glancing back down to the map she’d clutched in her fingers. “This isn’t supposed to be here..”

“Hey, what do you mean it isn’t supposed to be here?” Claude asked, peeling his eyes back and forth over the clearing. He inched behind Edelgard, craning his neck so he could see the map over her shoulder. She wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t supposed to be there. They were tucked between the woods and the southern entrance to the town that they’d accidentally butted up against.

Dimitri had drawn his lance. “Should we advance?” 

Claude shook his head. “No way, bad idea. We have a map that doesn’t even know where are are. We should turn back while we remember the way back in the first place.” Wordlessly, Edelgard advanced as Claude whined, “Does no one listen to the incredibly handsome, yet also relatively intelligent ally anymore?” 

Dimitri also shook his head as he shot Claude an apologetic glance. “Apparently not.” 

Claude drew his bow, pulling the quiver and following a couple paces behind Edelgard. If someone was going to surprise her, he had the full intention of releasing the arrow which rested in his hand.

Claude had an overwhelming feeling that they were being watched. He had that feeling once again that he felt in his dream. The one where he couldn’t breathe correctly. He swallowed that feeling has he heard rustling coming from the East. He turned and without second thought, released the arrow. It traveled short ways before meeting a target with a _thunk._ Someone’s weight crumpled to the ground. 

He turned his head to Edelgard, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’d love it if we didn’t get killed by bandits today.” As he spoke, an arrow whizzed past his side and clanked off the side of Dimitri’s armor. “Alright, let’s go!” 

Running was not the most fun right now, all pieces of Claude’s day considered. They had walked nearly all day during a particularly hot day after he got little sleep. After back to back trainings with Raphael. With little to eat today. He tried to forget about this stomach as they fled toward the town. He couldn’t help but, once again, feel like something was fishy. His foot caught the edge of a stone in the ground, nearly tripping him. _Alright, why don’t we focus on hightailing it out of here?_ He asked himself, getting his priorities straight. Scheme later, run faster. 

When they came close enough to the town, they slowed. “I doubt those guys follow us this far,” Dimitri panted. “In the meantime, what now?” 

Claude leaned against the stone barrier of the town, also trying to catch his breath. He wiped sweat from his hairline. He knew that there was no way to get back to their unit without going through that clearing again, judging by the route of the river that cut through the town. Of course. He noted that next time Edelgard had a great idea, he would find a way to keep them safe. For a time, the only sound was that of them catching their breath.

Each of them jumped when they heard a gruff voice coming from behind them. “What are you kids doin’ out here so late?”

“Well,” Claude began to answer before turning back to the woods. He could hear yelling from the forest. “They’re not very subtle, are they?" He turned back to the man. "We’re having a small run-in with some local annoyances.”

The man nodded as he turned and waved for them to follow as he laughed loudly. “You kids are really in the right place, then.”

“Ah, and why is that?” Dimitri asked, following the man without question. Edelgard shot Claude a look, her eyebrow raised. He knew what she was asking, and simply nodded in response. He’d be ready if anything else strange happened tonight. He wouldn’t be caught off guard twice.

So, as it turns out, they were _really_ in a good place to be separated from their unit and hiding from the bandits who had them outnumbered. “We’ve got a band of mercenaries stayin’ in my wife’s inn,” the man explained. “They’ve been good to have around—they’re very handy.”

“Let me get this straight, you’ve been using the trained killing machines to do your chores?” Claude asked, snorting in response. 

“The things they’ll do for free beds for a couple nights,” The man replied, marveling at the state of his inn. Claude wouldn’t lie—it _was_ freshly painted and repaired beams on the outside. It looked really nice. He cut his mind from the thought of a bed, fighting away his exhaustion. Nothing was going to wake him up at this point except some good old fashioned adrenaline from busting up some bandits.

“Wait here,” the man told them as he advanced toward the town square.

Edelgard turned back to Dimitri and Claude. “I’d like to apologize,” She admitted. “This was my idea.”

Claude nodded in agreement while he crossed his arms. He’d enjoy this one. “Sure was.” He wasn’t entirely kidding, he didn’t like that Edelgard was supposed to be a leader and decided to put them in danger in order to get the job done. She _had_ to start thinking of others’ safety.

Dimitri elbowed Claude in the ribs. “Claude! Don’t be so rude.”

Claude shot a side eye toward Dimitri, rubbing his side. “Okay, okay, fine, we _all_ agreed to this. Next time I’ll be sure to find a way to outvote you. Or restrain you,” he offered flirtatiously, winking. Internally, he wasn't feeling nearly as flirtatious. In fact, he felt suspicious of her intentions here.

Edelgard’s face twisted into fake disgust as she stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re a lost cause.” 

* * *

_This wasn’t the first time he’d been told that._ Only the last time he’d heard that phrase, he was six years old. An adult he’d never met was staring at him with very real disgust and a curled lip as they reminded him that his birth was a mistake. As they told him that he was a monstrosity. They pushed past him, shoving him back to the hard ground, skinning his elbows. That night, he’d sat in his rooms with his bandaged elbows, feeling the sting of the shredded skin. 

His room was a mess. He had his childish sketches thrown everywhere, his stuffed animals were strewn off the bed. 

_“Why do they hate me?”_ He asked his mother, who had come in to say goodnight. 

_“Oh, Khalid,”_ She paused. She had been looking for a good answer, but came up blank. _“You are very special. Half of your bloodline is Almyran, but the other half hails from Fódlan,”_ She reminded him, sitting next to him on his bed and stroking his hair. Her eyes were darker than his, emerald green even in the low light. _“The people here think Fódlan is full of cowards, barbarians. They choose to see Fódlan in you.”_

_“They don’t like me because of my bloodline? That makes no sense._ You _aren’t a coward!”_ He exclaimed.

_ “I know it doesn’t make sense. Someday you’ll understand.” _

* * *

“Claude, you in there?” Dimitri had turned the other direction, staring at him. “Come along, we’re going to go meet with the mercenary group and see about seeking assistance.” 

“Right.” 

Claude wasn’t six anymore. He was stronger, smarter. He gritted his teeth to think about the people who hated him because of what he looked like, where half his bloodline laid. He thought of the hatred that other children in his position have received. He would see this vision through all the way to the end. He pushed his exhaustion away. He wouldn't let that hold him back anymore. He wouldn’t rest until he could look out at a peaceful world. 


	3. Sweet Disposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear we're getting there, everyone! I've had so much fun writing this!!

As they approached the clearing once more, they ducked into the shadows of the night. The man leading them turned to them. “Stay here, I’ll return with Jeralt.” 

“Quick question, who _exactly_ is Jeralt?” Claude asked. “Just so we know when he arrives.” 

The man smiled. “Our boss. Him and By have been leading us around for a good long time.” 

Another person had been added to the mix and the question Claude had posed wasn't answered, which was frustrating. Claude sighed gently as the man turned and left them alone once again. Jeralt and By. “By”. It had to be a nickname. Shortened for something. What would these men expect from them in payment? 

Edelgard turned to the two. Her eyes darted between Claude and Dimitri. “We’re going to lie. Tell them we were attacked at camp. They won’t help us if we went looking for trouble,” She hissed. Claude had spent the trip here studying her mannerisms. Her truths were hard to decipher from her lies, it’s true, but she was probably right on this one. At this point, he just wanted to make it back in one piece. He didn’t expect Mr. Honorable to be most agreeable—

“I don’t like the idea…” Claude scoffed. He knew it. “ _But_ I’ll go along with it,” Dimitri concluded quietly. Damn. Claude would need to spend more time studying Dimitri’s patterns. They were going to be a challenge to figure out, but he enjoyed cracking people’s codes. Using their mannerisms against them. Edelgard simply nodded in response. 

“I like the way you think,” Claude commended Edelgard with fake enthusiasm and a smooth tug of his lips. 

It was only a matter of minutes before they returned, a larger and older man with sandy blonde hair made his way towards the clearing. He was much taller than the other man he was leading, a cloaked figure that he couldn’t make out in the distance and darkness. Jeralt wasn’t quiet in his steps by any means, and actually seemed to barrel himself as he walked. As they came closer, Claude almost needed to check his eyes for debris. The shorter, slender figure was not that of a man—but a woman. She could have fooled him. She was shorter than Edelgard, and had a smaller frame to her. 

It was around this time that he decided that she was his own personal death ward. When they came closer, her eyes met his first out of his two other companions. Her skin showed not one ounce of color, it wasn’t red from the chill in the breeze. It wasn’t blushed. In fact, her eyes were the only thing that would’ve fooled him into believing that she was even real. They were deep blue—a color that he’d seen before but he couldn’t peg what good comparison existed to convey the richness. 

So By was in fact, not a man. She looked as though she couldn’t be much older than himself and his companions. And she was with one of the best mercenaries in town. 

“What do you kids need at this hour?” Jeralt asked. He didn’t sound tired, despite the ring of small annoyance that existed in his words.

Dimitri was the first to speak. “We’re being pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope that you will be so… so _kind_ to lend us your support.” 

Jeralt didn’t look taken aback, but responded with a quick “Bandits? Here?” As though he were speaking only to himself. Claude’s eyes darted back to the woman by his side. His partner? No, she was too young for that. His student? That was a possible answer. He ripped his eyes away from her to keep from staring for too suspiciously long. 

Edelgard nodded. “It’s true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp.” Claude scoffed internally. _At rest_ was a good addition. Even with his various trust issues, he would likely believe her. He didn’t like that in the least. 

Alright, time to keep up _that_ lie. He could do better than that. “We’ve been separated from our companions and we’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives—not to mention our gold.” He felt content with this lie as he brought his hand to his head. He still had it. He didn’t feel bad about lying to the man or his student. He’d never see them again after this—so did it matter? 

Jeralt considered what they’d told him. “I’m impressed you’re staying so calm considering the situation.” The newfound relaxation in his eyes confirmed to Claude that he was decided. He was planning for sure. Claude was so sure of this until Jeralt’s expression changed into one with wider eyes.“Wait. That uniform,” Jeralt began. The girl turned her head toward Jeralt, expression unchanging. Claude felt frustration rising in his throat—she should’ve been curious. She should’ve been worried. Anything. She could pick any of the emotions. He could picture her raising a dainty eyebrow toward Jeralt as he said something about their uniforms. 

Claude held his breath and exhaled sharply when one of Jeralt’s men broke up the conversation. “Bandits spotted just outside the village! Damn, there’s a lot of them,” He spewed as though he were nervous. Claude rolled his eyes. Some mercenary _he_ was. 

Jeralt huffed, seemingly forgetting about the uniforms. “I guess they followed you all the way here. We can’t abandon this village now.” Claude thought of the freshly painted inn. These mercenaries were going to protect a village they hardly stayed in. He turned to the girl. “Come on, hope you’re ready.” She nodded gently. _She_ was going to take on bandits? He thought of Edelgard’s confidence and decisiveness on the battlefield. _Hmm,_ he thought. _Now this should be interesting._

Jeralt hopped effortlessly onto the horse that was being brought from the village and raised an eyebrow toward Dimitri. “Take down the enemies in the front first. That should take the wind out of their sails,” Dimitri nodded solemnly. Claude wanted to joke that his feelings were hurt that he didn’t regard himself as the leader of the three. He held himself back as he told himself that he was used to this.

The girl was the first to move, charging ahead and landing a blow across the first bandit’s chest. It was a powerful blow, but somehow she was graceful in her movements as she curled her fingers around her sword and braced her weight onto her left leg. The bandit was obviously surprised by this movement, too. The girl moved her hair from her face, facial expression still dead blank. 

Claude could’ve sworn his jaw hit the ground in that moment. And that _never_ happened to him. He wanted to disregard her as another mercenary but found himself enchanted by her movements. Her hair was blown by another breeze as she readied herself for another attack. 

As the bandit wound up his weapon to make a comeback to her, Claude raced in front of her and ripped his bow back in one swift movement and released the arrow, landing in the man’s leg—crumpling him to the ground. The girl turned to face him, surprised by the arrow which whizzed past her head. He flashed her a smile. “It’s thanks to you guys that I’m not dead right now, so thanks for that!” he began. He eyed her attire in an attempt to gather information on her that she didn’t have to explain. “I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods fortune must be _smiling_ on me.” 

She eyed him, as though she were sizing him up, as well. _Fuck,_ he thought. _I’ve just met my match._ It surprised him when she nodded and simply murmured, “Byleth.” Her voice rougher than Edelgard’s by far, making Hilda’s voice sound like the sweetest voice in all of Fódlan. It was a quiet voice, as though she didn’t get enough use of it—or maybe didn’t need the use of it. He noticed the slightest lift of her eyebrows when she spoke, which he took as a friendly gesture toward him. He hated how alluring she was. He could get lost in the details of her being if he wasn't careful enough.

So, he knew her name. By. Byleth. It made sense. He nodded in response to her and watched as she followed Edelgard toward the rest of the front lines of bandits. Claude knew that Dimitri and Edelgard saw her for what she was as well, but didn’t dare show it. Edelgard made an offhanded comment about how Byleth was “supposed to be a mercenary” and to not hold back. Dimitri was the gentleman that he always strived to be. Byleth didn’t say another word to either one of them—she seemed to be concentrated on the matters at hand. 

He was impressed, he wouldn’t lie. Impressed, and maybe a little intimidated. Edelgard exceeded expectations when it came to leading—but didn’t tend to have those longterm planning skills when she was engaged in battle herself. She made up for that in her brute strength. Dimitri was almost the opposite. He perhaps tended to _overthink_ on occasion. Although he had brute strength, he seemed to be holding back.

Jeralt’s daughter was different. She anticipated the next moves of her opponent, read their body language, and acted upon that. She may have lacked in the strength department, but she almost never took full hits from what Claude noticed. He assumed this was because of her mad thinking-ahead skills.

It was during this time that he spent watching her move that he was caught by an enemy who was lurking near the shrubs. It was an easy shot—Claude knew he shouldn’t have left himself so open. The blunt end of a dagger found its way to his ribs, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He fell to the ground on his back, heaving for oxygen. He shoved his bow up into the air, catching the dagger as the man swung it once more. If Claude could just get his legs about him he could disarm the bandit easily… He heard Edelgard shout his name through the blood rushing through his ears from the fall. 

However, it wasn’t necessary. The man’s weight was removed from him with a swipe to his own ribs. He sucked in a breath, still finding it hard to breathe after the hit he took to his side. That would be a nasty bruise tomorrow. 

Byleth stood over him, foot on the man’s chest as he fell still. Claude glanced from the man to her, understanding what had just happened. She had deviated from her course to help him. Without even knowing him. He smiled, unable to hide his relief. “Thanks again. It seems we keep meeting like this.” He couldn’t explain the expression on her face. It wasn’t annoyed, or relieved, or solemn. It was a closed book, not for him to read. 

She offered her hand to him in a quick gesture. He reached up and took it, wrapping his fingers around her’s. Despite the adrenaline that had to be coursing through her veins, her hand was freezing cold. _And soft,_ he noticed. For a mercenary who constantly worked, she had soft features about her. He had no doubt in this moment that if he were her foe, she wouldn’t hesitate to take him down—but he couldn’t help but wonder how she’d gotten this far without getting beat up the way he knew mercenaries to be. She was the biggest mystery he’d encountered to date. He stood quickly and nodded in another thanks toward her. Now was not the time to be worried about her warmth or her features. That’s what threw him into this situation in the first place. 

Despite having Jeralt’s aid, the fight wasn’t easy. Edelgard wasn’t in the best place as Dimitri landed a final blow on the final lower-level bandit. Their leader had locked his knees as this happened—he was an older man with a beat up face. He looked as though he had a black eye that wouldn’t go away. 

Jeralt’s horse galloped toward the man—the man’s face twisting in surprise. Claude watched curiously, wondering what had changed in the last few seconds. “Aren’t you Jeralt the Blade Breaker?” The unfortunate-looking man asked. “What’s a renowned mercenary like _you_ doing _here?”_

Claude didn’t have much time to analyze this one as he was tending to Edelgard’s gash on her shoulder from a flying arrow that nicked her. All he could chalk this up to was that they’d just gotten themselves into more than they could’ve ever guessed. He must have started training Byleth when she was extremely young. What led them to this lifestyle?

Jeralt threw his head back and groaned. “I’m the one who should be complaining. I’m caught up in the mess you started!” Jeralt only sounded a fraction as annoyed as he wanted to sound. 

“That’s Kostas,” Edelgard whispered to Claude, who readied a vulnerary for her. “He leads this area’s bandit units.”

As she whispered that, the man’s eyes slithered past Jeralt, to Byleth, who was standing a couple of feet behind his horse. With that, Claude knew what was happening. She wouldn’t have expected this coming. She couldn’t have expected this when Jeralt was ready to make the first move. “Hey, you, with the blank stare, outta my way!” He yelled, barreling toward her. There wasn’t enough time to yell at her or take a breath. Despite his size, the dude was _fast._

Byleth’s eyes met his, her eyes unchanging as she resumed a battle stance, lifting her arm left arm slightly and lugging the sword over her shoulder, legs spread a shoulders length apart. She barely moved, yet the next thing Claude knew, Kostas was on the ground and Byleth had the sword resting on the back of her shoulder once more. Claude began to cross the field toward her and Jeralt, cautiously eyeing Kostas.

Claude dipped back into the shadows as Kostas stirred, waving for Dimitri and Edelgard to follow.

Kostas threw himself back onto his feet, immediately lunging toward the closest person—which put him on a path to Edelgard. Claude groaned internally when he remembered that Edelgard’s axe bad been flung across the clearing after she threw it, burying it into a bandit’s chest. Instead, she whipped out a dagger from beneath her uniform, eyebrows knitting together. It was a foolish move, and didn’t stand much of a chance against Kostas and his battleaxe. Why didn’t she book it? 

Claude didn’t see Byleth move. He was too busy running through every possible scenario in his mind. His eyes darted to where she had been standing and only met the eyes of Jeralt, who didn’t look surprised, but his mouth had formed a flat line, his face a ghostly white. For the first time, he could read Byleth; she was incredibly concentrated on Kostas’ movements. This was the first time that he realized that _Byleth’s got this._ She didn’t _need_ or _want_ anyone’s protection. Even if she did want it, he doubted she’d admit that. Once again, she disarmed him and used the momentum of her body to slam into him—sending him hurdling back to the ground. Her lips parted as she huffed the tiniest breath out. 

He didn’t waste any time to cross the clearing once again, clutching his bow once more, yet again telling himself that this time he wouldn’t be taken off guard. He wasn’t the only one, though. Jeralt made it there only half a second after Claude and Dimitri did, relieved that his daughter was safe. 

Claude wasn’t sure what to make about these two, despite his admiration of the artistry that went behind Byleth’s combat moves. That’s what it was—it was an art, and she had mastered it. It drove Claude mad. No one was meant to be so graceful in their movements, so precise and planned. 

A familiar voice boomed from the clearing. “The Knights of Seiros are here!” Alois yelled, not processing that he’d been a couple seconds too late to take part in the perceived action on his end. He closed his eyes and leveled his axe. “We’ll cut you down for terrorizing our students!” He finished proudly, finally opening his eyes. “Hey, the thieves are running away. Go after them!” 

Claude rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, a paper bag had more brains than Alois. Maybe that wasn’t true, but Claude couldn’t stand it when the man brought up obvious points. He turned his head and Jeralt shook his in disappointment. “Ugh. Why him?” He whined to himself.

_Why him?_ Claude’s mind basked over the words. They… They knew each other? This was becoming the most interesting puzzle of all time. The church couldn’t have recent ties with the mercenary group, they wouldn’t dare. That meant there was history specifically between the two. So, Jeralt was a renowned mercenary that bandits knew on sight. Claude grew frustrated with not being able to discern the answers immediately. It had been a _long_ time since this had happened to him. 

He could've sworn that he hated Jeralt and the mysterious girl. He could've sworn to himself that he wanted to turn and never face them again, never have to wonder why they were inhumanly hard to read. To understand. He had known her all of twenty minutes. She was insignificant to his longterm dream.

However, when he found her, all he found think of was the ocean. Waves crashing. He could drown in her, but what if it was the most relieving, the most _cooling_ feeling of his life? 

No, no. _Stop that._ He couldn't let this happen.

_“Captain Jeralt?”_ Alois marveled. “It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man!” He exclaimed with a fire lighting behind his eyes. Whoever Jeralt was in his past, it surprised Byleth. She rose her hand to her mouth, resting her thumb under her bottom lip as Alois continued. “It must have been… _twenty years_ since you went missing without a trace. I always knew you were still alive!” Claude had never seen Alois _this_ enthused, despite his normal excitable nature.

Claude stretched and lifted his arms behind his head, locking his fingers together and forming a small cradle for his head, staring at Byleth’s reactions, which remained unchanging. 

“I’m not your captain anymore,” Jeralt reminded Alois, shifting uncomfortably at the attention. “These days, I’m just a wandering mercenary. One who has work to do. Goodbye, old friend.” 

Wait, what? 

Claude blinked. That was _entirely_ too sudden—what kind of a person didn’t want to see their long lost friend after twenty years of being apart? That is, unless they weren’t friends. Or had a marred history. Why was Jeralt avoiding him? Why was he so ready to get away?

Alois didn’t pick up on this, but instead seemed as though he simply wanted more time with his old captain. “I insist that you return to the monastery with me!” 

Jeralt’s expression froze as though he were debating his options. Claude could see _some_ of Byleth in him. Her lips curved into the same frown as his did. If she wanted a say in this, she didn’t move on that impulse. Her hand, however, did drop to her side when Jeralt spoke once more. “Garreg Mach Monastery,” He murmured to himself slowly, being sure to pronounce every syllable. “I suppose this was inevitable.”

_How did he know about Garreg Mach?_ Did this mean his first hypothesis that the church would never align with mercenary groups was incorrect? He strapped his bow to his back, preparing himself to be the first to make her true acquaintance if they were to be spending more time together. 

Alois turned to Byleth as though he’d just noticed her. “Are you the captain’s child?” 

Claude began to put the pieces together. Twenty years. Jeralt must have disappeared when she was born, give or take a couple years or months. Where was her mother?

She shook her head. “Nope, I don’t know him.” 

Claude stifled a laugh under a small cough. How could she be so calm? Was she not bursting at the seams with questions? 

“I’d love for you to see the monastery, too. You _will_ join me, won’t you?” Ah, Claude knew this trick well. He wasn’t sure that Alois knew he was doing it, but this was an easy shot. Don’t leave the question open for discussion and rather create a statement. If she said yes, Jeralt would be strapped in for good.

She simply nodded. Claude smirked. _Let the games begin._


	4. Don't Look Back

“Hey, Teach,” Claude’s voice was barely more than a whisper. He was leaned back against his dresser, hands planted on it. He gripped the wood to keep from crossing the room to be with her. She had been reaching for the doorknob, ready to turn and leave after their talk. Only a small candle lit the room, shimmering their outlines to one another. “Please, for my sake, stay safe tomorrow. I can’t lose you, too.” 

She had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes on the ground. He could already tell that she would try to lie for his benefit. She wasn’t the kind to worry about herself—maybe sometimes she forgot that she wasn’t invincible. She couldn’t do it all on her own. 

“I will do my best.” 

He sighed. That was the best he could ask her for. He released the dresser and hesitantly crossed his small room, stepping over his stacks of books. He reached his left arm out and let his fingers wrap around a strand of hair that fell into her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. She lifted her own eyes to his with a smile tugging at her lips.

“If something happens to me, you have to forget about me. This is more important than my own life,” She whispered back as though they were in a room that was crowded and she didn’t want to be heard. “You have to lead them because _they_ _need_ you. We can’t led Edelgard win.” 

Claude let his fingers slip down to her neck, behind her ear. He cradled her head as he craned his own head down to press his forehead to hers. As though it were an automatic reaction, she lifted her own arms to his waist. He closed his eyes, savoring this moment. How easy it would be to brush their lips together… “I think you know I can’t do that.” 

She dropped her arms as though she’d been electrocuted. She’d said once it was easy to forget she was supposed to be a teacher. Claude sighed. She pulled her head back and shook her head, reaching up for his hand to pull it away. “That wasn’t a question. You _can,_ and you _will._ I know you can.”

* * *

5 years ago.

Claude.

Claude spent the remainder of that night on standby. He watched as Jeralt and his daughter packed what they needed and prepared to depart with the Knights. Byleth was the first to emerge from her room—her lighter boots on the wood floor was easy to distinguish from Jeralt’s heavy steps. 

Edelgard and Dimitri made small talk with her every so often as they made the first bit of the trek back to Garreg Mach. She had short, simple answers to each question they posed to her. They stopped an hour into the walk to set up a stable camp for the remainder of the night. By now, they’d only get a few hours of sleep before it was time to get back up and travel more to make it back.

“Do you need assistance setting up?” Dimitri asked her, offering to take her pack as she set it down across from Claude’s tent. Claude sat outside his own tent with his legs crossed, munching on rabbit skewer. 

“No, I’m quite capable, but thank you for asking. You look exhausted, I should be the one offering you some help,” she lamented, eyebrows pulling together the slightest bit. Claude could only read her the slightest with the pull of her brows. She was worried about Dimitri.

Dimitri’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, no, I’m alright. Do not worry yourself over me. Goodnight,” He excused himself to set up camp next to Claude. 

“Dimitri?” She asked, stopping him in his tracks. He turned, eyebrows raised. “Get some rest. See you tomorrow,” She said simply. Claude thought about his own interaction with her—he’d never even told her his name. He had done this purposefully, waiting to see what was coming to fruition with her. 

She wasn’t wrong, she didn’t need anyone’s help. She quickly assembled her tent as though she’d trained in making it an art. When she was done, she disappeared into the wooded area with a rag, heading toward the stream. He imagined she was going to clean up the best she could. She had a small scrape across her cheek, dirt on her forehead. He pictured her with her guard let down. Sighing with relief when she splashed the water on her face. He escaped into his tent, replacing his Academy clothes with a black long-sleeve shirt and loose, black pants.

Jeralt and Alois’ tents were a couple yards north of her’s. She had popped her head into Jeralt’s tent momentarily, then turned to return to her own for the night. She’d removed her cloak, throwing it over the front weight bearing piece of her tent. The front strands of her hair were dripping. He wanted to reach out and catch the droplets with his finger to keep her shoulders from getting wet.

“Are you tired of their questions yet?” Claude asked before she entered. She seemed surprised that he’d spoken. She settled at the edge of her tent, folding her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. 

“You say that as you also ask a question,” She pointed out. Claude cracked a smile and nodded. Clever. He waited to see if she’d answer. After a few seconds, she sighed. “I have my own questions, you know. I don’t have especially good answers because I don’t quite know what’s happened, either.”

Claude had his doubts about this. 

“So, you didn’t know that your father was with the Knights once?”

She shook her head slightly. “I had no idea.” Where she sat, Claude couldn’t help but knock a couple years off his original estimated age of her. He was sure now that she couldn’t be more than three years older than himself. He would be eighteen soon. He wanted to know everything about her.

“Why didn’t you ask him all your questions?” He noticed the way her chest rose and fell. She had a scar across her left collarbone—so light that he might not have noticed it if it weren’t for someone’s lantern swaying in the wind, lighting her from the shoulders up. 

She shrugged. “No need to badger him with my concerns. I trust him and his judgement. If he wants to visit your monastery, so be it. He’ll talk to me when he’s ready.”

Claude considered this answer. From what he could tell, she was being sincere. Her eyes didn’t linger from his when she spoke, but he did notice the way that her head rested on her knees with increasing relaxation, curling herself into a tighter ball as the breeze blew past them. He hadn’t considered what her day had been like—perhaps she was exhausted in the same way that he was. 

He began to stand up to back into his tent. “Go inside and get warm.”

“I think I should be the one telling you to rest up, the bags under your eyes are concerning.”

He scoffed and made a couple strides toward her tent to help her off the ground, holding out his hand. “Don’t you worry yourself about little old me.”

She stretched her arms before taking his hand. He pulled her up easily, taking note of how frigid her hand was. He wanted to wrap her hand up in his hands and let it warm up. Her eyes met his once again. “Who exactly is ‘little old you’?”

He smiled. “Claude von Riegen, Leicester Alliance. Don’t you forget it.”

She released his hand after a moment and offered a small wave. “Goodnight, Claude.”

“Sweet dreams.” 

Byleth.

She hadn’t processed what exactly had happened today. She laid in her bed roll and considered the possibilities of tomorrow. She’d meant what she had told Claude only moments ago. She trusted her father with her life—she didn’t _think_ any harm could come to them by making a visit to the monastery. 

The image of her father’s grimace replayed in her mind. He seemed far away for the remainder of the night, seeming to not hear the stories that Alois happily recounted while on the road. She wasn’t bothered by not knowing—what her father did in his past was _his_ business. She was bothered by the bad memories that he seemed to be reliving. She didn’t want him to be in pain. He was the last human alive who deserved it. 

Her thoughts wandered to the three students she’d met today. She was already hearing double from the voice in her mind, reminding her that she was being analyzed by each of them. Edelgard, especially. Claude was a close second, though. His questions were deeper than the average person—too open ended. Dimitri seemed like the most innocent of the three, the most gentlemanly. 

_When has that ever mattered to you?_

“Never,” she replied to the voice.

She groaned, shoving her makeshift pillow to the side and kicking the warm bed roll away. She had too many thoughts to sleep, despite her body screaming in protest when she stepped back into the chilly breeze. She just needed a walk, time alone. She masked her steps with each blow of wind as she wrapped her cloak tighter around her body. She had just gotten warm when she decided she needed to clear her mind. She made her way back to the water, where she lowered herself onto the old, abandoned dock area. She figured that once, there must have been an area for a small fleet to dock. The nearby village was one that was keen on fishing—it made sense.

She watched the water. She could never pinpoint how she was feeling—today was especially the case. _You need to be prepared, get some sleep,_ the voice instructed with its own yawn.

She laid back on the dock, now fixing her gaze on the sky. Her mind roamed back to Claude. She thought about the smoothness of his expression. Even in combat, he maintained a calm expression. It was nerve racking. He had a smooth, even smile—his teeth so white that she could see them clearly even in the dark. His eyes didn’t change despite his smiles. She, too, had sensed that perhaps his smile wasn’t completely genuine. 

Her eyes felt heavy as she watched the stars. They were brighter than usual tonight, it seemed. How nice. She enjoyed the feeling of being small, inconsequential, as she thought about how large this world truly was. She should really get up and go back to camp…

Before she could conjure up the want to lift herself, she was fast asleep on the dock.

She dreamed of a soothing, hot bath.

It had been so long since she’d been able to feel that sort of relief. She was used to being tense, pretending the cold wasn’t bitter. She had thicker skin than to show her father and his men how childish she was. She wasn’t sure where she was in this dream, but it was a long corridor. There were smooth, white quartz floors and art on the walls framed by golden embellished frames.

She eventually wandered into a cluttered room. Books were strewn across it, the bed covers messily hung off the side of the bed. She spotted the door within the room and opened it cautiously. Inside, there was a room with a large tub—full of steaming water. She glanced at the goosebumps on her arms. 

_Is this a good idea?_

Yes.

She closed the door behind her, twisting the lock shut with a small _click._ She stripped down quickly, telling herself she only needed five minutes to feel herself again. She neatly folded her clothes, leaving them beside the door. 

She lowered herself into the water, feeling the heat almost overtaking her. It nearly burned her, but as she lowered the rest of her body in, she couldn’t help but shiver at the _relief._ She’d never felt something quite like it. She momentarily submerged her head, wetting her blue locks. She came back up, wiping the water from her eyes. The bath smelled of rosewater. She could stay here for hours.

However, when she opened her eyes, the scene had changed. She was clothed once again, the smell still lingering. She was in a dimly lit stone chamber, hair dripping down her clothes from being wet only moments ago. There were torches across the wall, a crypt at the end of the long chamber.

She heard a familiar voice. That of a man. _Who are you?_ The voice was charismatic, asking with what she wanted to peg as concern. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but felt burning. She closed her eyes, opening them once more to realize she was once again, underwater—the warming sensation coming back once more. Her lungs burned. _A human!_ She wanted to reply. _I am a human!_

She kicked her legs to the surface, overwhelmed by the light of the bathroom as she returned to the bath. Had she just drowned in the bath? “Hey, hey,” the same voice hushed her in a soothing tone. She could feel a hand pushing back her wet strands of hair from her face. “I’ve got you.”

When she opened her eyes, it was daybreak. 


	5. A Moment Apart

Claude took a seat on the incline that led down to the water’s edge. He’d originally come down to splash himself with some water before they departed for Garreg Mach. Down the hill, in the grass, there Byleth laid. She was on her right side, facing the water. She had her arm situated under her head, forming a pillow of sorts. Her knees were curled toward her chest, a similar way to when she sat outside his tent the night before. She had her cloak curled around her body like a blanket. He didn’t mean to be a creep in this moment, but if anyone had walked up on him, it would’ve been extremely hard to explain.

He watched her chest rise and fall. She looked content right there in the grass. He didn’t want to be the one to startle her awake, either. Her hair had a small leaf embedded in it. He wondered absently what she dreamed of, _if_ she even remembered having dreams. He frowned. Or nightmares. He looked out to the water, which had fog floating near the surface. What judgement was she using when she decided this was the best place to sleep? She was a sitting duck out here.

_Not everyone has to worry about that,_ he reminded himself. Not everyone had to worry about being slaughtered while they rested.

He considered how difficult it may be to return her to her tent. He’d be betting heavily that no one back at camp would be awake. The odds were not in his favor here. He would also be placing a bet on how deep of a sleeper she was. It didn’t seem like she was such a light sleeper if she could sleep out here. He let himself imagine lifting her into his arms. The way her head would lean against his chest. What a good look he’d finally get at her face when she’s at peace.

He stood abruptly, turning toward camp. He was not doing this. He avoided crunchy leaves as he made his return, not wanting to raise questions as to whether or not he’d seen her if she were to be missed.

He snuck past Jeralt and Alois’ tents and practically threw himself back into his own tent, closing the drapery behind him. He buttoned the snaps shut so that he could change his clothes in peace.

As he buttoned the Academy uniform back into place, he heard Alois’ loud voice emerge from his tent. “Jeralt! You old man, you haven’t gone soft have you?” He asked with a laugh. “Wake up!”

He couldn’t hear Jeralt’s response, but figured it was safe to emerge from his tent once he heard more stirring outside as well. 

As he poked his head out of his tent, he spotted Byleth making her way up the path. She looked wide awake, as though she hadn’t been sleeping soundly twenty minutes ago. 

“Where did you go so early?” Jeralt asked as she passed by.

“To refresh myself,” she replied coolly. The leaf was no longer in her hair. Claude smirked—what did she have to hide from her father about last night? To hide from everyone? She ducked into her tent, stopping halfway to speak to her father again. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.” 

* * *

The rest of the trip was smooth. She stayed relatively quiet the entire time, keeping her eyes ahead. Claude couldn’t tell if this was due to her having a lot on her mind, or due to the downright boring scenery that the route Alois opted for resulted in. 

Dimitri and Edelgard chattered amongst themselves, sometimes throwing her into the mix—asking questions such as where she was born. They were nervous because she had dodged their passing question of where her allegiances laid back at the clearing. She had looked between the three of them and shook her head with the simple answer of not knowing enough about any of them.

Unfortunate, because she could prove to be an ally that he wanted on his side.

As they approached the monastery, Dimitri turned his head to her. “This will be your first time at the monastery,” he repeated. Ah, he was charming her. So they were playing _this_ game, were they? “I’d be happy to show you around.” He smiled gently, his blue eyes eating her alive.

Claude sighed and closed his eyes. It’s a shame he could beat Dimitri at his own game any day of the week. He didn’t need to think of what to say. “He really is Fódlan in a nutshell. The good _and_ the bad.” He had to keep himself from emphasizing _Fódlan_ as if it were a dirty word. She wouldn’t understand what Claude was trying to say—not yet. He promised himself that he would explain to her someday if she proved herself trustworthy. 

She eyed Claude for a moment, as though she had caught what he was alluding to, but couldn’t put all of the pieces together. If she had any question, she kept it to herself. 

Edelgard didn’t make eye contact with any of them, instead keeping her eyes forward. “ _Like it or not,_ we’ll be there soon,” she replied pointedly. 

Claude thought about how he may have once considered Edelgard to be the definition of physical beauty. Snow white hair, her lavender irises. She was confident in her own decisions, and incredibly smart. There was something about this that didn’t seem right anymore. 

As the trees parted, Claude got his first proper glance at her in the natural sunlight. He couldn’t deny that she was almost angelic in her appearance. Her eyes adjusted to the light before her eyes widened the slightest bit. _Surprise._ He wanted to reach over and brush her hair from her face so she could get the full picture. 

“If you don’t close your mouth, you’ll catch bugs,” Claude reminded her, leaning in close to her ear so that the others wouldn’t share the same moments with her as he did. His lips had brushed against a couple stray strands of her hair. He almost felt her shivering. She smelled of intoxicating rosewater.

She shot a glance toward him. “I didn’t know it was so… _big_.”

“You gonna take Dimitri up on his offer to show you around?” He asked with a grin. This was a self-serving question. Who was she leaning toward?

She must’ve caught on. “You know what, I think I will. I don’t want to get irreparably lost.” She sped her walking to a short jog to catch up with him. Claude wasn’t religious, but in that moment she looked like a goddess.

He pulled himself together. Damn. Win some, lose some.

As they entered the monastery, she fell back to walk beside her father. Did he sense that she was nervous?

Entering the courtyard, they both stopped. Claude turned his head to see Jeralt’s glare. His eyebrows were pushed together, mouth fallen into a frown. His mouth moved as he said something too low for Claude to hear. Byleth’s eyes searched the yard before she lifted her head and traced Jeralt’s glare to its target.

It was Rhea. She was standing in her own courtyard that her and Seteth’s office led out onto on the second floor. 

Claude’s eyebrows pulled together. Now _this,_ this bothered him. He wasn’t one to morally defend the church. He didn’t like being attached to them at all—but what did he have against Rhea? Byleth’s face unintentionally copied her father’s as her lips fell into a pursed frown. She was fiercely loyal to her father. 

Suddenly, the morning laps that he’d taken around the monastery were coming in handy. He knew how to stealth around this place like the back of his hand—the best shadows to fall into—the places that he could pretend to be doing work in. He was _intent_ on finding out what had happened here. 

He quickly made his way back to his room, but not before bumping into Hilda. He groaned internally when he saw her sitting in the Golden Deer classroom, knowing that he couldn’t escape a tell-all.

“Hey you,” she greeted with her honey-smooth voice, locking arms with him and leading him into the room. “Tell me all about her.”

“I don’t know what you’re even talking about, Hilda.”

“Shut up, yes you do.”

“The new girl? She’s not staying. They’re just visiting. She and Jeralt saved our asses.” 

Leonie’s head whipped around. She jumped out of her seat and stumbled toward them, eyes wide. “What did you just say?” She demanded, her fist landing on the table. “Did you just… _Captain Jeralt?_ The… the _Blade Breaker_?” 

Claude hadn’t known Leonie for very long, but had never seen her so crazed. “What if I did?”

“H-He’s a _legendary_ knight around here. He’s my idol. Is he here? You have to tell me where to find him!” Her voice shook as she grabbed Claude’s shoulder and stared at him with pleading eyes. 

No way. He was not having her ruin his incognito mission. “Sorry,” He said innocently, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t know where he went. I think he went toward the water.” 

Leonie’s eyes almost popped out of her head.

“Thank you!” She yelled as she hightailed it from the room.

“You shouldn’t lie to her,” Hilda scolded with a smile. “Where are they actually at?” Claude kept his face smooth. How did she know he was lying?

Claude stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “They really aren’t that special,” he lied again. “I’m gonna go put my stuff down so I can rest. Rejuvenate. You know plenty about that, right?”

He wasn’t going to get distracted anymore. He quickly dropped his stuff at his room and then made his way toward the staircase leading to the audience chamber. He climbed them quietly, peeking his head out from the corner to get a good visual on guards. To his surprise, there were none. He stayed put for several seconds before moving toward the hall on the upper level. Hanneman and Manuela’s offices. Empty, too. Thank the phony goddess.

He slightly opened one of the double doors to the chamber, listening as well as he could. 

Jeralt’s voice was low, hard to hear again. “…Been years since I’ve last set eyes on this place… To be forced to see her now…” So he _did_ know Rhea.

“Her?” She asked, as though she were channeling Claude’s own questions. 

“…The archbishop… Lady Rhea…” 

Alright, this was frustrating. He could hear the basics of the conversation but couldn’t completely hear. What else was being said? He rolled his eyes.

Byleth’s voice was much easier to hear. She didn’t have the thought to keep her voice low incase someone was listening in. “The archbishop?” She asked.

_Where_ exactly was she born again? Did she answer that question? Claude racked his mind. She didn’t answer it. Did she know nothing of the church? His blood went cold. She couldn’t have been from Fódlan if she didn’t know of the church, right?

Jeralt’s voice became even lower. Claude was ready to burst through the doors in order to hear what was happening. His blood had frozen, then boiled. 

“The leader of that ridiculously large religious… Lady Rhea…” 

Claude could’ve laughed at that one. So Jeralt definitely had a qualm with the church of some sort. He didn’t want to see Lady Rhea _and_ thought it was ridiculous in the first place. So, why was he so well-known amongst students such as Leonie?

He could feel the vibrations of footsteps coming from the west side of the room. Seteth and Rhea. 

“It has been a long time, Jeralt. I wonder what the will of the goddess was that we’d have another chance meeting like this?”

Jeralt spoke louder this time. “Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke.” 

_Yes, it would be nice if you explained your silence, wouldn’t it?_ Claude furrowed his brows.

“So I see,” Rhea agreed, pausing at something. “Ah, the miracle of fatherhood was blessed you. That is your child, is it not?”

Damn, Rhea was good. Claude didn’t even guess they were related until Byleth’s mannerisms mimicked Jeralt’s. He wouldn’t have actually known for sure unless the words were laid out in front of him. Which they were.

“I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my child. I’m afraid we lost her to illness,” Jeralt admitted. So, she had lost her mother. Claude frowned. But to illness?

“Jeralt, you already know what I wish to ask,” She stated after pleasantries. Byleth had been hesitant to tell her what her name was. A woman after his own heart, untrusting of authority. 

“You want me to rejoin the Knights. I won’t say no, but,” He paused. Claude wished with every bone in his body that he could see what was happening. That was half the story. He heard stirring coming from the stairwell. He just needed a few more seconds.

However, he could see Rhea’s face in his mind crystal clear when she spoke next. It was unamused. “Your apprehension stings.”

That’s always the thing, isn’t it? Jeralt never had a choice in this matter. He couldn’t say no and escape back into his hiding.

As Seteth and Rhea stepped away, Claude made his escape. He’d heard what he _needed_ to know. 

Making his way down the stairs, he made his past Manuela. “Professor, looking dashing as always,” he commented as he passed by. “Trust I’ll see you in class?”

She stopped and turned to face him, looking down at him. “Or not. I’m not supposed to say anything yet, but we might Hanneman and myself may be switching classes around. We have a new professor in the mix.”

Claude chuckled. “Thats why they wanted Jeralt to come back?”

“Oh, heavens no.” She pulled her finger to her lips, forming a sign to hush. “Someone else.”

“Then I’m not—” Claude stopped midway through this sentence. Mechanically, he spoke again. “Byleth.”

Manuela tapped her nose, signaling that he got it right. “Didn’t hear it from me.” She turned and continued climbing the stone stairs, her heels clicking with each step.

He felt frustration swell in him. Byleth was good, he’ll admit that. A master. She trained under Jeralt her entire life. She was more tactful in battle than he was by far—he had a lot to learn. But Rhea hardly knew her. What did Rhea want with her? He had known her less than two days, and yet, if anything happened to her...

He sighed, grounding himself. He needed her. He _needed_ her to be on his side. He repeated that to himself. He _needed_ her as an _ally_ in battle, nothing more.

Nothing more. 


End file.
